I'm A Cliche - Larry Stylinson
by malikspoopybutt
Summary: Louis Tomlinson is tired of being lonely. He's tired of being sad. He's tired of being a cliche. So when he meets, best described, long, seductive Harry Styles who is anything but normal and cliched, he can't help but be drawn to him. The only problem is, Harry doesn't know Louis is gay and sets him up with shy, lovely Eleanor Calder. And then he finds himself falling for Louis.
1. Harry

**Chapter 1**

It takes me a little while to notice, but someone is watching me.

A long, curly someone with these eyes that I can see through the dim light of the club.

A cliché, meeting in a club. But my life has been full of clichés lately and anyway, clichés are good sometimes. Like now, with him watching me and me watching him from across the dance floor, which is full of sweaty, writhing bodies. And I've never been one for dancing, so I drink and I watch and Zayn is outside smoking and chatting up some pretty brunette, so I'm alone but that's okay.

I don't feel alone, not with those eyes watching me. He starts weaving his way through the crowd, that body moving like nothing I've ever seen, like a tiger on the prowl, and everything about him makes sweat break out on my brow, but maybe that's just because everyone is crowding around and the pulsing beat of the music makes me nervous. He's wearing tight black jeans on his legs that go forever, and I start imagining those legs wrapped around me.

Suddenly a voice interrupts my thought.

"Hey," it says.

"Hey," I reply.

My head goes fuzzy as he stands in front of me, and I don't know why I'm thinking this way because I haven't had much to drink and anyways, this isn't how I usually am. But I guess Zayn is getting his wish, because he brought me out to hook me up because I haven't been the same since… well…

So I look into the eyes of the man standing in front of me and wow, he definitely is a man. Though his dimples surprise me and his eyes are so innocent that I'm not sure how I thought they had looked seductive before. He's tall. So tall that I have to look up a bit, but that's okay because tall guys turn me on.

He gives me a smile.

"Hi," he says, "I'm Harry."

That voice gives me shivers. It's deep and gravelly and lord, I'm not surprised.

"Louis," I reply, and I try to look cool and toss my fringe, putting my hands in my back pockets and leaning back on my heels. I'm bracing myself for whatever he's about to say, when suddenly he says it. And I'm not ready.

"Look, I know this is straightforward-"

Oh boy.

"But I was just wondering…"

Here it goes.

"If you could buy my friend a drink."

Oh god. He nods behind him, and I follow the nod to see a pretty, petite brunette who looks just as uncomfortable as I feel standing where Harry just was, her arms wrapped around herself and her wide brown eyes searching the crowd frantically. She doesn't want to be here. And I don't blame her.

I stutter at Harry, because my stupid self was imagining stupid him wanting to by me a drink. But instead he wants stupid me to buy pretty, sweet girl a drink and god; I'm going to look like a dick no matter what I do.

"It's just that I saw you watching her earlier, and I thought that was kind of nice. She just got out of a bad break up, see-"

"And you brought her to a bar?" I ask, because I'm wondering _why _exactly friends seem to think that bars are the best medicines for ending relationships. No thank you, I'd rather be at home watching Love Actually. Harry blushes deeply, like he knows it's a stupid idea.

"I didn't know what else to do."

"She looks so uncomfortable."

He looks at her with me, and I think he starts to see it too.

"Yeah, I guess she does."

But I sigh anyways, and nod, because god knows I've been there.

"What's her name?" I ask as I turn to the bartender and order a water.

"Eleanor - just water?"

"She won't want alcohol. Look at what you bought her-"

We both look back to Eleanor and the pink alcoholic drink that's sitting on the table next to her, untouched.

"She hasn't drank any of it."

Harry watches me, his hands in his pockets, and a small smile on your face.

"You're smart. A real ladies' man, huh?"

"Uh…" I thank the bartender as he slides me the glass of water, and look into Harry's eyes. He's so close, because there isn't much room at the bar, and I can smell his cologne. "Sure, you could say that."


	2. Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll

She smells of vanilla and some kind of fancy perfume, but I don't know what kind. That's all I can think of, and quite frankly it's all I want to think of.

I've never had sex with a girl before, so this is weird. I mean, it's not like I'm a virgin because I lost my virginity to Ethan three years ago, but having sex with a girl and having sex with a guy are two very different things.

To start off with, girls are not nearly as fun. Nor does having sex with them feel as good. Sure it's the same basic idea, but I don't know, there's just something about having a dick up your ass that is absolutely mind blowing. And after being strictly-dickly for my entire life, there's something off putting about the way Eleanor is bouncing up and down on my pelvis, moaning like a well-paid prostitute.

I pull through it, though I don't know how, and eventually find myself sweaty and out of breath, not at all sexually stimulated or post-orgasmic, lying next to her on the lilac sheets which now don't smell good anymore, but like sweat and guilt.

Eleanor smiles at me, her fingers playing with the fabric of her pillowcases. "That was great," she whispered, and I forced a smile.

"Uh, yeah."

She stood from the bed, dragging along the sheets and wrapping them around her bare body, leaving me with the blankets. "Do you want coffee or anything?"

I have to get out. I swing my legs over the side of the bed. "Look, I need to get going-" and oh, I'm going to sound like a dick, but I don't think she minds. She looks relieved that I didn't accept her offer and nods.

"Yeah, sure!"

I pull on my briefs and tug on my t-shirt. "But I had a great time."

"Definitely."

"I'll see you around?"

"Sure."

I don't know what's custom after a completely unsatisfactory (for me at least) bout of sex, so I make my way for the door, but she gets there first and opens it for me, smiling. Then she hands me my phone.

"Don't forget this," she says, and I realize that I left it on her bedside table. I take it from her with a smile.

"Thanks."

I turn to leave, but her voice stops me, and goddamn it, I should have stopped all of this then.

"Do you want my number?" she asks, and I turn to see her nearly hugging the door, looking once again like that shy, sweet girl I'd met in the club. Self conscious and unsure, and I'm feeling guilty, so I nod and she grabs a pen and writes the digits on my palm with loopy, pretty handwriting.

"Cool," I hold up my palm for her to see, "I'll call you."

"Promise?"

I don't know what possess me to do this, but I've been where she is and I feel for her. So I nod.

"Promise."

I hail a cab and make it home a half hour later, to the empty flat filled with flipped over pictures of Ethan and me at the carnival, and at that concert last summer. It's darker and emptier than it normally is, but maybe that's just because it's about 3:30 in the morning. I see a note from Zayn on the fridge, and I guess he used his key to let himself in.

Lou-

Couldn't get a hold of you

Call me when you get home

If you don't, I'll call Jay

-Z

I don't want him calling my mum, because for god's sake I'm a grown man, so I take out my phone and turn it on, wait for all of the texts and voicemails to come streaming in, and then once that's over I dial his number, which is speed dial number one, and wait as it connects.

A groggy voice answers, "Lou?"

"Hey Zayn, I'm fine."

"Good. You home?"

"I'm home."

"Good. It's 3:30."

"Yeah, I went home with Eleanor."

"Yeah, no, I got that, Louis… a girl."

"I guess." I flick a few crumbs off of the kitchen counter and then make my way through the living room to my bedroom. The bed sits empty in the corner, and it even seems empty whenever I'll sleep in it later.

"I don't know, Zayn… Maybe I like girls now."

"No, you don't."

"No, I don't." I agreed.

He sighs, and it makes the receiver crackle. "I'll be over with food around ten. Go to sleep, Louis."

"Right."

"Hey, take your meds."

I close my eyes, and regret the fact that Zayn knows me so well. It's much easier to have no one care.

"Yeah, I will."

And I do, once he hangs up with murmurs of goodnight. I walk into the bathroom and open the drawer, move aside the magazines and the toilet paper, and eye the razor blades wearily. I pop open the bottle and down two pills before tossing the bottle back into the drawer and covering it again with the magazines- but something stops me.

There he stands, right beside me, and I see him in the mirror. His dark hair covers his eyes almost to the point of not being able to see them, but a few slivers of gray shine through. His sleeves are rolled up again, I can see the scars, and he whispers in my ear.

"_Across, Louis._"

I move the magazines and grab a razor blade.


End file.
